


Aside: Skywatcher

by ThatDamnKennedyKid



Series: The Winged Jedi [13]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Female Obi-Wan Kenobi, Gen, Wingfic, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-14 17:46:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15394080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDamnKennedyKid/pseuds/ThatDamnKennedyKid
Summary: For all her talk of not liking things "uncivilized", she certainly had no problem keeping her hair down.





	Aside: Skywatcher

Anger was a useful tool. 

He let it drive him sometimes, let it wield him instead of the other way around. It made him win. It had added some more scars, but that was part of the process. Being calm would have done the same. 

He remembered the first time feeling a true rush of anger was because of his Master. He'd been thirteen, her Padawan now, and escorting a Senator to some diplomatic meeting. It was boring, for all parties involved, but the Senator found some amusement in making snide comments. 

"It's somewhat of an uncivilized world." He stated, smug and disgusted. 

"I can imagine." She replied, calm and unflappable. 

(Anakin had had a lot of fun describing her that way once he discovered the word: unflappable. The Masters never found it funny, but it made her smile.)

"Perhaps you would be better suited. Modest as you appear."

Her smile tightened at the edges. "Indeed. Such is the characteristic of a person who needs no visible representation of their quality."

The Senator had balked, like she'd slapped him (and she was strong), then he snarled. "Stewjon raptor or not, the least you could do is present yourself adequately in the presence of your betters!"

"Don't talk to my Master that way!" He piped up - he hadn't understood the barbs before, but he knew that tone of voice. He didn't appreciate it. 

"And a subordinate brat!"

"Hey!"

"Anakin, sit, please."

He did so, just because she asked him to, but remained glowering at the man across from them. 

"I take it you can make it to Etkhar on your own, then?" She said. 

"P-Pardon?"

"I would not have you suffer me or my Padawan if we truly displease you so much."

"You can't leave me alone!"

"I absolutely can." She said, wrapping Anakin up in a wing. "We are here as a courtesy. I do not have to do anything other than live by the Code. So, will you be satisfied making the trip on your own?"

He backed down. "No."

"In that case, perhaps some silence, so I can meditate with my Padawan?"

" . . . Of course, Master Jedi."

"Excellent. Come, Anakin."

As they entered the cargo hold, he grabbed her hand. "Master, can I ask a question?"

"Of course."

"Why do you wear your hair down? The other fancy ladies wear it up all the time."

"You like my hair down." She replied simply, taking up her meditation pose. "Come, Anakin. Sit with me."

He did as she said, but remained staring at her when her eyes closed. It delighted him that she considered his feeling enough to make it part of her appearance,  but he felt like there was something else. 

Did she not consider herself worthy of the pomp and ceremony that came with done up hair? Even as a Padawan, she'd kept it in a utilitarian bun - nothing flashy or even pretty. Just there to keep the hair she liked. He didn't understand her, not entirely, and this was just one more facet to her beautiful jewel. 

"Master?"

"Yes, Padawan?"

"Why don't you think you're pretty?"

She opened her eyes, shimmering like butterfly wings. She assessed him for a long moment before sighing heavily. "I know I'm pretty, Anakin. I am colourful and draw attention. But I am so much more than that."

"What do you mean?"

She pulled him close, wrapping her wing around him. He loved her wings and her arms - she was impenetrable, and he was safe there. "Imagine that what everyone noticed first about you and fixated on was not your magnificent droids, your ability to fly or your swordsmanship. Imagine that they only noticed the colour of your eyes, praised how you look in clothes and nothing else. How would that make you feel?"

"Shallow."

"Exactly." She stroked his hair, pressing a kiss there. "That is how I feel. They care about the colour of my wings and hair, how beautiful I would be dressed up like a Senator's wife. But I am not. I'm a Jedi, a negotiator, a warrior with a purpose. I am a Master to a brilliant Padawan, and a scientist."

He suddenly felt sick. "You don't like me calling you pretty?"

She chuckled. "Do not fret, Anakin. Your innocence means your compliments are sincere. You also compliment my book collection, my ability to fly, admire my mastery of the katas and want me to explain complex mathematics to you. I don't dislike compliments to my appearance, just when it's the only thing about me that you notice."

"Ah." He felt better. And he understood her more. "When we return, can we skydance a little? I want to feel the air."

"Depending on this planet, we might be able to here."

He snuggled closer to her, letting his head rest on her chest. Her wings blocked out the overhead lights and for a while, there was only the serenity of her Force signature vibrating around him. Pure and clean, like Nabanese springs. She hummed with power, but also beauty and life, like a flower that blossoms into a sun. He could feel her in his soul, like an anchor, and he held onto it with all his might. 

* * *

It was empty, her place in his heart. She was gone. He had to try, any way, any method. He needed her  _back_. He needed her light, otherwise there was just this cold darkness. 

So he let his anger burn, because any light is better than none. 

 


End file.
